


Church of Burned Romances

by The_Banana_Power



Category: Hemlock Grove
Genre: And gore, Blood, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, Bottom Peter, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Fix-It of Sorts, I mean, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mating Bond, Mpreg, Pregnant Peter, Smoking, Sort Of, Top Roman, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, Upir, Werewolf Biology, bad words, bisexual roman godfrey, bitch olivia, but - Freeform, christina is very gay, did i mention blood?, heat? idk, i will fuck her up, im sorry if i offended anyone, its hemlock grove, nadia is peter's biological daughter, olivia hates romani ppl, olivia is homophobic, queer peter rumancek, there is a lot of it, there will be a lot of the word "gypsy", they fuck, very religious letha
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:29:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25246177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Banana_Power/pseuds/The_Banana_Power
Summary: Roman Godfrey isn’t a very perceptive individual.He’ll be the first one to admit that, because to be perceptive you had to care enough about other people to notice them, and it’s his personal rule that he doesn’t care enough about people in general. That’s a fact mostly known to almost everyone in Hemlock Grove. The lesser-known fact is that there is a very specific exception to his rule though, Peter Rumancek.----or Letha was never pregnant, Roman is very bi, and Peter somehow can get pregnant
Relationships: Roman Godfrey/Peter Rumancek
Comments: 5
Kudos: 54





	Church of Burned Romances

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO THERE, I've promised to write this fic in 2018 and procrastinated till now, well, at least now I kinda know how to write smut, I think... hope you enjoy and please leave a comment to inspire me to write more...

Roman Godfrey isn’t a very perceptive individual.

He’ll be the first one to admit that, because to be perceptive you had to care enough about other people to notice them, and it’s his personal rule that he doesn’t care enough about people in general. That’s a fact mostly known to almost everyone in Hemlock Grove. The lesser-known fact, however, is that there is a very specific exception to his rule: Peter Rumancek.

The werewolf boy has been in Roman’s life for three months now, Roman has been there for him for those three full moons, and in this time Roman had felt more emotions towards Peter than he ever had towards anyone else in his life. What started as indifference became suspicion, anger, sudden curiosity, morbid interest, empathy, friendship, and, more recently, affection. And, though Roman doesn’t know how to deal with these changes, he cannot, will not get away from the gypsy, doesn’t matter what other people thought about said friendship.

Due to these feelings, Roman seemed to be unable to stop noticing things about the werewolf boy. the way he dressed in old or stolen clothes- mismatching in a harmonic way that was totally _Peter_. The discomfort he felt after a full moon when his skin was new and raw against the old, distressed furniture inside his small home in the woods. How he always seemed to need a glass of water or a cup of tea after his shift to wash away the taste of prey. Or even how Peter had the tendency to lash out with sarcasm when uncomfortable, but always appreciated a good dumb joke at inappropriate moments.

Even more unusually, Roman cared enough about these things to try and do something to accommodate him. Giving him old t-shirts that were now too small for himself but still much better quality compared to Peter’s own, if slightly oversized. Cracking jokes to calm him down before transformations, happy when he got a small smile and a middle finger – or snarky comeback – from the other boy. And gradually, but not very subtly, bringing soft blankets and pillows to the Rumancek household, justifying it with the needed for his own high-quality bedding to properly sleep well in the small sofa, but yet again “forgetting” them there, after he spending the night waiting for the shorter boy to come back from a full moon.

So, when Roman observed Peter’s odd behavior that Wednesday morning - how the boy sweated buckets and seemed to hurt with every step he took, looking like a junkie out of his goods, eyeing his surroundings at every sound, seemingly overwhelmed with the world and yet not mentally there at all, pupils blown out and hands shaking when doodling in his notebook - the half Upir got worried for his friend's wellbeing. 

Peter often took trips to the bathroom during their shared period in English that day, coming back with his hair and stubble damp from the water, hands showcasing small, nail shaped, cuts from sinking them in his palms to try and calm down. He, however, didn’t even acknowledge the notes the Godfrey heir passed him asking him if there was something wrong or if it had something to do with how close they were to the full moon.

At the end of the school day, Roman couldn’t find him anywhere, but his phone had a text from Peter saying he was home and to not come after him, something about werewolf hormones and being tired as fuck excusing his erratic behavior that day. And so the half taller boy thought to not bother him and simply the ask Romani what had happened the next day at school.

The gypsy, however, was absent that Friday. which definitely soured Roman’s humor the whole time he had to listen to middle-aged teachers that got paid lees than his childhood allowance to poorly teach uninterested teenagers how to become a mediocre adult. All the while he thought worse and worse scenarios of his best friend being in trouble and not trusting him enough to tell him what was going on.

 _Shee-it_ , he thought. It hurt to even think of being in the receiving end of Peter’s apathy after so much. He stopped his train of thought, not ready to understand those feelings, and too worried about Peter to focus on much else.

The second he heard the last bell of the day signaling his metaphorical freedom he went to his car. Driving carelessly and not even noticing the kid he almost hit when he had bigger things to think about, like _if Peter got bored of him all of a sudden. If there was something wrong with Peter’s wolf form. If Peter was okay. If whatever it was that’s been killing those people for the last months hadn’t gotten to him last night._

He probably broke the speed limit twice over after that last thought, but the need to check on Peter was stronger than any rational thought concerning his own safety. He needed to see Peter, to make sure he was okay.

He got even more worried when he arrived at the Rumancek home and neither Peter nor Lynda were outside. Throwing all etiquette through the proverbial window he opened up the trailer door, seeing the living room empty and quiet if not for the sound of the old television in the corner playing some old as fuck movie.

“Peter?” Roman called in a borderline frantic voice for the third time since arriving at the Rumancek property, afraid of what Peter not being there might mean, only to be rewarded by silence.

He then explored more of the house, going to the hallway that led to the two bedrooms and the only bathroom, the stained carpet stifling his heavy steps. Not wanting to think about Peter and his mom leaving Hemlock Grove suddenly and without goodbyes.

“Peter, stop fucking around, where are you, you Furry Fucker?” he said into the middle of the hallway.

“Roman” he heard a faint voice, Peter’s voice, calling him from the closed bedroom door at his right.

Signing with relief, Roman opened the door without hesitation, expecting to see a sleepy, snotty Peter. However, he was met with the vision of Peter in one of his old shirts, lying face first in what could only be described as a nest made of the same blankets and pillows Roman had left there, covered in sweat, eyes closed, hard dick in hand and two fingers inside his pink asshole.

Peter opened up his eyes as soon as Roman stepped into the room. Head to the side and cheek smushed against the pillow Roman used the last time he was there overnight, shoving his fingers even deeper inside himself, legs obscenely open, ass on total display for the half Upir’s hungry eyes, Peter _fucking moaned Roman’s name_ while looking him straight in the eyes.

“Shee-it” Roman stated stupidly, seeing his best (and only) friend shaking with waves of pleasure as he came all over himself and the sheets that were on Roman’s own bed not two months ago.

His expensive navy blue linen pants suddenly felt too tight for his liking, dick straining against the seams, and he took one big step forward before stopping himself, not knowing what was going on and how to react.

“Peter, what…” he had no way of finishing his sentence because Peter was suddenly in front of him looking nothing like someone that just got such a satisfactory climax mere seconds ago.

The white t-shirt was a little too big on his smaller frame, exposing his defined collar bones lewdly. He had his face burrowed in Roman’s neck, breathing in deeply his scent. Wrecked voice spewing nonsensical whining and longish nails roughly scratching him through his button-up shirt. Calloused hands traveled down Roman’s body to find his hard dick, gently cupping him with ring adorned fingers over his pants.

Roman let out a soft moan at the touch, the warm breaths at his neck, the gypsy’s voice, the smell of sweat and jizz in the room that did nothing to cover up the smell that was uniquely Peter’s it all was almost enough to make him lose his mind, if not for the little pleas coming from the werewolf’s dry throat, he seemed to be in pain and not the good kind.

“Peter?” he called his friend to no avail “Peter, look at me…” Roman said, again with no success. Peter’s hot tongue traveled to his pulse point, teeth nipping at the exposed pale skin and making his dick pulsate at the thought of sporting a purple mark in his neck the next day, a mark left there by _Peter_.

Having to put a stop to it before he gave into the shorter boy’s addicting touch and ruined their friendship forever, Roman got a handful of Peter’s brown hair from the back of his head. He tugged firmly, pulling him away from his neck, earning himself a deep, animalistic growl from the werewolf.

“Peter, what is going on, man? You’re acting weird, stop fucking around” he stated looking at big blue eyes almost completely covered by the blown pupils, long lashes framing a lustful glare directed at him. There were tears gathered at the corners of his pretty eyes

“I- Roman, I, please… it- shee-it - it hurts. I tried to get it to stop, but is just not fucking enough- not...” He said, eyes crazy and clearly, in pain, a tear slowly made its way down his face and roman had the urge to lick it off the other boy’s face.

“Please, Roman, just- just, ugh, just fuck me, shee-it, I need- ahh- I need your help, just, make it sto-stop. I need it to stop, please, man… it’s just, I’m so empty it hurts, hurts so much… just, just… please.” he started rambling again while grinding his still hard dick in Roman’s pants, not caring for the expensive cloth he was ruining with cum stains.

And, to be honest, Roman didn’t care either, too involved in the internal debate that was going on in his mind. The situation was so confusing and so clear at the same time his head hurt: _Peter was asking him for sex_.

It wasn’t like Roman was having a sexuality crisis, he got his freak on with guys, he was unapologetically bisexual, after all. Hell, his first blowjob was from that weird-but-hot nerd with the weird Twilight obsession in seventh grade.

No, the problem here was that it was Peter his best friend, _his only friend_ and that was what made him afraid. He didn’t want to imagine Peter getting angry at him after he got himself recollected, nor did he want to go back at pretending to be fine when he was so lonely and starved for real affection.

The only other friend he ever had was his cousin Letha, but it was not like he could still count her as a friend as he chose Peter over her. He spent less and less time with her after she became radically religious out of the blue during their second week at school, stating she had dreams about an angel visiting her to "spiritually enlighten her on the Holy Scripture and its teachings". The blonde often talked about sinners being punished and how gypsies were devil worshipers, trying to make Roman get away from Peter. Said she thought the boy to be promiscuous enough to sexually tempt Roman – a statement he had vehemently denied to ever be able to happen, as Peter seemed to not be interested and yet here he is, with his hard cock in the hands of that same gypsy boy, being begged to fuck him.

The thought of his dick in Peter’s hands brought him back to reality, and he was surprised to see himself standing at the feet of the small bed, button-up shirt open to showcase his white undershirt and Peter on his knees in the bed, working with shaky hands to take his belt off. Roman still had his hands on the other boy’s hair, but now it was more of a tender touch to soft, chocolaty strands than the rough hold from before. The soft pleas hadn’t stopped and now Peter seemed to bounce himself on the bed, fucking himself on the air, desperate for any form of friction, browns frowned in dissatisfaction with either Roman’s belt or his own emptiness.

Knowing he was grasping for straws in relation to his self-control, he looked Peter in the eyes, concentrating on the words that fell from his mouth, smooth and somehow powerful.

“ **Peter, I need you to calm the fuck down and tell me if you really want this - me fucking you.** " he stated feeling the now well-known headache but ignoring it in favor of getting Peter's explicit consent. " **I need to know this is not just some weird supernatural shit making you say that. Be serious, cause I won’t fuck you if this means you’ll get angry at me and blame me for it later on** ” he felt blood oozing from his nostrils but didn’t mind to clean it, simply waiting for the Rumancek boy’s response

He could see Peter’s eyes get progressively less hazy as if Roman had somehow made the boy feel more aware of himself, less consumed by lust, but he was still in pain. He grabbed Roman’s open shirt with both hands, not breaking eye contact.

“Are you dumb, Rich Boy?" he lightly shook Roman by the shirt, as if it would make him understand. "I’ve been flirting with you for three months now. I sleep surrounded by your pretentious smell every damn night. I’ve very much expressed my desire to have your lips around my cock. You’re the only person besides my mother that knows about the wolf thing. If you didn’t realize I want you to fuck me till I can’t remember my own name, _that’s on you_. Now get this damn belt off and get into this bed so I can hop on your fucking dick – which I hope is made of fucking gold for all the time you made me wait, you Retarded Fucking Asshole – and later you will suck my brains out” he said exasperated. Every word seemed to take him closer to his breaking point as he ended his rant by plopping himself on his back in the middle of the bed and palming his own dick, not even waiting for Roman to register his answer properly.

The half Upir stood there looking at the beautiful creature in front of him before complying dutifully, taking his clothes off purposefully slowly so as to tease Peter, who simultaneously enjoyed the shown and hated it - as it took away from the precious time he could spend by being fucked - still he didn't say a word the whole time it took the green-eyed boy to get completely naked.

Now naked and staring at the other boy on the bed, Roman let his tongue slip out and lick his blood coated lips, making them shiny with saliva and red thanks to the crimson liquid that still stained them. Peter couldn’t take it anymore, growling at the taller of the two as a warning to 'cut the bullshit and just get inside the nest and fuck him already.' The rich boy’s half-smirk, however, showcased his asshole nature and left no doubt in any of their minds he would have it his way. He was lucky his dick was as big as his fucking ego. _We'll see about who's in charge here_ , Peter thought, _the game is on_.

Roman laid his hands softly on Peter’s knees, a barely-there touch, and slowly separated his legs so that he could fit better in between them. The touch, small as it was, was all that it took for peter to feel himself be consumed by lust again. A sensation like fire and lightning coming from the places where Roman’s fingers met his naked skin, arms lacing themselves under both his knees and hands resting on Peter's exposed hips. He felt Roman's old shirt ride up in his torso as he himself was dragged till the end of the bed with surprising grace coming from the half Upir.

Roman’s face touched his knee as he pulled the Romani’s right leg over his left shoulder, leaving his other leg to hang from the edge of the mattress while he used the other hand to adjust his new position on the floor. The full lips were a breath away from the hairy skin of his thigh as green eyes intensely looked into blue ones. Roman seemed not to blink as he talked, so collected in his words it was obvious he was seconds from letting go from his self-control.

“Do you have lube and a fucking condom or do you wanna do this with spit and me loosening you up on my tongue?” the thought of Roman eating him out was almost enough to get Peter to orgasm again, but the idea of taking him without proper preparation was not a pleasant one. Instead, he just fishes the tube of water-based lube and the pack of condoms from under a pillow near his hips and grunts at Roman for him to just go ahead and be useful before he decides he’ll do it himself.

The Blond Fucker has the _audacity_ to laugh at Peter’s urgency while popping the cap open and coating his free-hand fingers with lube.

The sensation of Roman’s finger massaging his rim, coating it with the sticky gel-like substance, is one Peter cannot describe. His only response is to roll his eyes inside his head in pleasure as his hands fisted the navy blue blanket underneath him. And even this sensation is nothing compared to when the first finger enters him, getting in till the last knuckle, passage eased up by his own fingers not ten minutes prior.

Roman’s fingers, nevertheless, were a lot bigger than his own, reaching deeper inside of him with every thrust. One finger quickly became two, moving almost deliberately inside of him for long minutes, mechanically and yet carefully opening him up. Roman was taking his time and testing Peter, waiting for his reaction, seeing how long would it be before he got tired of their little game.

All the while, the gypsy noticed, Roman was kissing his propped up thigh, lips dragging against the naked space, coating the inside of it with the blood that was on his face. Painting pale skin with crimson, creating a beautiful and violent picture that could easily describe either of them. 

The way Roman’s eyes got more intense by the minute - flooding with want and darkness and other feelings Peter couldn’t name if he wanted to - made him remembered Nicolae’s word about _Upir’s eyes being completely not human._ Ande yet, he couldn’t bring himself to think about those shiny dark eyes as _evil_ , not when they seemed to look at him so softly.

It didn’t escape Peter’s attention, though how Roman groaned as he licked his own blood from the soft skin, the hand holding his leg in place gripping harder than before and his eyes closing in pleasure tongue lapping up the metallic taste from salty skin. At the moment it seemed that there was no better place for the Godfrey heir than on his knees at the edge of the bed, fingering his best friend’s ass open while drinking his own blood from said friend’s thigh.

“Of course you would have a blood kink," he laughed to himself " freaky motherfucker” Peter joked breathlessly, almost disappointed for not thinking about it before, _fucking Upir’s._

In retribution Roman simply bit him in the tender meat of his thigh, closer to his groin than before. The sensation of blunt teeth sinking into him with enough force to bruise was enough for Peter to cum all over himself for the seventh time that day. If he wasn’t a werewolf he definitely would be in a coma right now.

“Says the one with a biting kink” the blond snarked back with a smug smile in his face, his still blood tinted tongue darling out to soothe the abused spot before scraping his teeth along the already reddening patch of skin.

A third finger made his way inside Peter and it robbed him of his retaliation words as soon as they met his prostate, making his softening dick twitch with interest and he let a long and pained groan. Roman was torturing him, that was clear, but it was such a good type of torture he almost didn't mind losing the game anymore. _Almost._

Lifting his left leg till his foot was resting on the bed, he was able to get some sort of angle that allowed him to fuck himself on Roman's fingers, establishing a faster and harder pace to the fucking. He moaned again and felt the half Upir’s left-hand wrap around his half-erect dick, bringing him to full hardness in no time. The pain inside Peter started growing again, needing him to be filled up.

“Why don’t you just fuck me already” he angrily asked, looking at the other’s eyes, snark losing its power when he saw the amount of adoration in Roman’s face. That boy would be the death of him.

“I like to see you like this. Needing me. Wanting me. I wanna make you cry for me. Come so hard you’ll pass the fuck out” he said as honestly as if he was stating the sky is blue, and yet, his eyes were so intense, his lips so wet and red, and _so kissable_...

Not really thinking much, Peter grabbed Roman by the back of his neck, dragging him up to lay on top of himself- the taller one having to let go of Peter's dick in favor of holding his own weight as to not crush him- and pressed their lips together, both immediately opening up so their tongues could touch. The kiss wasn't like any other either had experienced and, under other circumstances, it could be deemed as bad, with their teeth banging and the weird angle of Roman's fingers still on Peter's stretched asshole. But neither cared, filled up with lust, and fueled by pent up teenage hormones, the kiss was _great_.

Peter let his other hand unclench from the blanket and cup Roman's dick again, this time touching it without the barrier of clothes. It sat heavily against his palm, around 9 inches - longer and slightly thicker than his own 7 inches cock - well cleaned, with trimmed dark blond hair at the base and balls, uncircumcised, thick veins going down the sides of it and with a very reddish mushroom head. He liked it, it sure would feel amazing inside of him. Roman made some nice noises inside Peter's moth at the exploring touch, fingers faltering slightly before continuing their languid actions inside Peter.

Also being a little shit by nature, though, Peter dragged his thumb to the tip and lightly pressed his long nail to the urethra, not enough to really do anything other than tickle the opening and causing a whole body shiver to go through Roman. The taller boy had to stop the kiss and grab a fist full of the blankets beside Peter's head as to not cum and end their fun there.

"You Little Shit" Roman spat the words through clenched teeth, eyes closed shut.

“Either you shove your dick inside my fucking ass right now or I will throw you outside with no clothes on” he threatened the green-eyed boy, biting his earlobe right after and earning himself the deepest, most animalistic sound he ever heard a human (or half-human, considering Roman) be able to produce.

In mere seconds Roman had (unfortunately) taken his fingers out of Peter’s ass and put on the condom, and was now turning Peter around, hairy ass up, face down, and shoving his dick halfway inside in just one go.

“Don’t threaten me like that again” Romans tone exuded dominance as he grabbed the other boy's hips thinking he had won their game. Peter just laughed and easily turned them around, adopting a new position so he would be able to ride Roman easily, they both facing each other now. The taller boy's hands were now trapped beside his head, held in place by Peter's smaller ones. 

“Well then” he started, sinking all the way down, taking his time with the action, enjoying it a little bit “then it would just be boring, would-” he groaned at the feeling of finally being full, the pain from lacking someone inside of him subsiding and giving way to a more satisfying form of relief than any of his previous climaxes that day. Hearing Roman's long moan in response made him smile, _he just won the game they were playing_ “wouldn’t ?” he finished as he started moving up and down deliberately slow.

It took almost no time for Roman to match his thrusts with Peter’s movements, freeing his hands when Peter's hold got weaker. Instead, he placed them on Peter's upper thighs, using the position to leverage his thrusts as the other boy used his entire weight to sink down into his cock, bodies synchronizing perfectly. Both moaning and grunting, not even noticing the fallen pillows or the messy bundle of blankets slowly getting out of place as they continued with their frantic motions for what it felt like hours. Traped in their own little world that consisted of the other and their personal need for sexual release. he

Roman blindly felt around the nightstand and found the small knife he knew to reside there, one that belonged to Peter's uncle Vince. Its blade was sharp enough to cut his right thumb open with minimum effort, allowing him to messily smear the warm blood on Peter’s collarbones, not caring about the white t-shirt still hanging loosely from the smaller frame.

 _Payback from my pants,_ he thought jokingly while hoisting himself up to a sitting position as to be able to lick it, hips still moving with purpose as Peter's legs circled his lower torso. His bloody hand was brought up to softly touch Peter’s face, holding it at an angle to give him more access to the blushing neck of his best friend. Lowering his lips in contact with soft skin, thumb smearing blood on a stubble covered cheek, Roman led his tongue - hungrily dragging it along the exposed skin - to taste Peter and himself in such a divine combination.

The Romani moaned hard when plump wet lips parted in contact with his vulnerable throat, sucking hard as if to devour the werewolf's own soul through it. _I would let him,_ the blue-eyed boy thought without hesitation. Yet again, Peter caught himself thinking about Upir's and their deceiving nature before Roman brought him back to their fucking by wrapping his left hand against his neglected dick, forcing him to hold himself up for dear life, hands palming the blond's broad back, and increasing his own efforts of riding the dick inside him.

After cleaning every last drop of blood out of his skin, Roman then started bitting him along his neck, adding teeth shaped bruises to the already abused path in his neck. Both never stopping with the brutal movements driving his cock into his prostate, leaving them panting and at the edge of climax. But something was still missing for Peter -and it wasn't jacking off, as Roman was _very_ skilled in it and had been doing it for the last twenty minutes he was riding the Godfrey heir.

No, he knew exactly what was missing the moment Roman’s thumb accidentally got into his mouth after a slight repositioning of their bodies and the metallic taste of his blood flooded his taste buds. only hesitating slightly before it, Peter called out for Roman, a questioning grunt encouraging him to ask what he needed.

“I want you to bite me _hard,_ I want you to taste me as I just tasted you, can you do it?” he asked in between pants, thumb still between his parted lips and high in euphoria.

The twitch in Roman’s dick inside of him would have been answer enough, and it only was confirmed when Peter felt him sink his teeth into his shoulder. He could feel the skin break under those blunt teeth, could hear Roman’s deep moan as he took his own pleasure from the action. And, for just a moment, he asked himself if Upir’s had different, monstrous teeth, or if they were just like Roman’s were now, completely human. And the repercussions of himself, not entirely human too, openly allowing Roman to lap at his blood.

They both came not long after that, unable to contain their elation against the wall of pleasure shoving them off the edge without mercy.

As they came down from their high, blue eyes found green ones, both pairs dark and violent as the monsters they kept hidden inside, caged, but still caring such softness and affection, the type few could ever experience in life.

Noses and foreheads touching, damp hair messy and falling onto their open eyes, not enough to obscure them. The air was heavy with sex and with breaths short from exhaustion, Peter was able to smell their scents mixed together. Open eyes closed softly as to better feel the sensations the other brought, wet lips stretching around teeth stained red and sweaty faces forming blissed-out, peaceful smiles.

Neither knew who started the kiss, teeth clashing and tongues wild, chasing themselves into each other's mouths as if needed for survival. It was entirely animalistic and not all romantic, a need so immediate and demanding it went against their calm feeling just seconds before. Both had their lower faces and mouths covered in blood, Roman’s back was bleeding just as much as Peter’s shoulder because at some point the werewolf scratched him so hard as to drawn blood, and yet, they couldn't feel bad about any of that.

At that shared moment, confused, fucked out, and blood-stained as they were, they felt better than ever.

Sure, they had to talk about it later, whatever this was, but that was the future, and never before they could want to be in the present, safe and happy in the comfort of the other's arms. They continued their kiss, addicted to their shared taste. Words swallowed into their mouths, lost into the frenzy of their moving tongues. Their hands holding on to every part they could find with bruising force, bringing them even closer, while fingers sometimes traveled through soft hair or broad backs with possessive intention. Their lips moved out of synchrony, full of desperation and totally incapable of stopping even for air.

Let the Morning come later, and bring Reality with it, for now, this night was theirs to enjoy together.

**Author's Note:**

> soooo.... thoughts? hopes? any mistakes I didn't notice? what you wanna see next? any character you want me to explore? thank you for reading


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